


Clarity

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Karaoke, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28470204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noct enjoys bad music.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	Clarity

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He stumbles on the stairs, and there’s a split-second where Noctis can actually _see_ the change in him: the carefree, joyful spirit slipping into sheer self-consciousness and bristling anxiety. But then those blue eyes cast across the club and catch on Noctis, and Noctis grins and punches the air with a big thumbs up. Prompto trembles back into a smile and his usual self: the bright ball of sunshine that Noctis loves so much. He struts across the pseudo-stage towards the waiting microphone, and the screen behind him flickers to a cliché shot of Galdin beach at dawn. Lyrics light up along the bottom, guitars suddenly blasting through the speakers above the black couch Noctis has sunk into. 

Prompto belts out the first words like he was born to be a star. The cheesy pop-ballad is perfect for the lounge, and most of the audience eats it up, a few inebriated girls giggling in the front row as they cheer him on. Noctis cheers louder, claps longer, and even whistles when Prompto scrapes through a high-note, one that sounded way better in the original but looks so much better coming out of Prompto’s glossy lips. The coloured strobe lights dance over him, catching in his golden hair and all the sequins on his vest, picking up the glimmer of his bracelets and wristband. His skin-tight faux-leather pants shine with every step he dances into, and the more the song builds, the more he moves, which is great, because he’s the clumsiest, most adorable dancer Noctis has ever seen. The best part is that he looks like he’s having the time of his life, and he keeps gesturing Noctis over like there’s any way in hell Noctis is getting on that stage.

He spends enough time in the limelight. It’s great seeing Prompto do it for once, even if it’s just at a cheap karaoke bar for a measly three minutes. He fumbles the lyrics in the next hook, but Noctis’ roar of approval seems to carry him through. His eyes are just for Noctis, not even budging when Gladiolus snorts across the table. 

Noctis keep his eyes on Prompto’s too, even while he’s reaching for another drink—there’s still a cluster of shots at the center of the table. Gladiolus has been downing them like water, but there should be some left. Noctis’ fingers don’t connect with the glass, and a sharp sting strikes the back of his hand. He knows without looking that Ignis has stepped in. Noctis doesn’t argue, purely because he’s already pretty buzzed and too happy to fight. 

But he does ask out the corner of his mouth, over the ear-splitting beat, “Hey, Iggy, think I could make Prompto a popstar?”

“Hm?” Ignis hums back, barely intelligible over the noise. 

Noctis persists, “Y’know! How sometimes cute celebrities get into music just because they have money?” Noctis knows for a fact that everything on Prompto’s body came from the thrift store, because they had a ball rifling through it last week. But Prompto looks more valuable than anything and everything in the royal treasury, and there’s so much passion in his voice that it doesn’t matter if he hits the right key. “Well, Prom’s cute, and I got money, so, like... why not?” Because Prompto’s really _come alive_ up there, and he deserves a bigger audience than just this one hole in the wall. The whole _world_ should worship him. And that’s enough, but Noctis has just enough alcohol in him to blurt out too, “Then we’d be on the same level! We could be a celebrity couple!” And Prompto wouldn’t feel bad anymore about being _nobody_ , because he’s never been nobody to Noctis, but he clearly needs to hear it from other people too. They could fend off the press together and sign each other’s pictures, and when Noctis complained about all the attention, Prompto would really understand.

But Ignis counters reasonably, “Then you would also have to share Prompto with the world.”

“Oh.”

Gladiolus leans over Ignis to shout, “What?”

“Oh!”

“Oh what?”

Noctis doesn’t answer, because Prompto’s shrieking the final note, lasting a good five seconds longer than the original singer did, and he does it bent over the microphone like a rock star on the first night of a world tour. Noctis shoves two fingers into his mouth to whistle and then claps like a madman. 

The girls in the front row are clapping too, and they’re trying to wave Prompto to their table, which seems to distract Prompto from the group of men on his left booing for no good reason. As Prompto dismounts the stage, one of the girls comes over to touch his arm, and Noctis realizes that he definitely can’t share. 

He doesn’t have to. Prompto laughs along with the girl, then extricates himself as the next person takes the microphone. He beelines through the club on his own, dodging tables and chairs until he’s right in the back corner, where Noctis has been waiting. 

He perches down on the arm of Noctis’ couch and asks, “How’d I do?”

Noctis would answer with an open-mouthed kiss and a grope, but Ignis squeezes his shoulder—a short but sobering reminder. It brings Noctis back down to Eos just enough for him to downgrade to a hug. But the hug he pulls Prompto into is still fierce and full of adoration, and he promises, “Amazing!”


End file.
